In Your Heart Shall Burn
by theoneinquisitor
Summary: Clarke Griffin was never meant to be at the conclave, but next thing she knows she's leading an Inquisition to stop demons, rogue warriors, and a corrupt society. It's a lot to handle for a young mage, but she doesn't have to do it alone. Based off Dragon Age: Inquisition. There will be Bellarke, action, dragons, magic. It could be epic. Rating T, will change to M.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the 100 characters/plot lines/the show itself. I also am in now way associated with Dragon Age:Inquisition and any plot lines and quotes used belong solely to them. No copyright is intended.

 **PROLOGUE**

 _Man is created_

 _And no longer was it formless, ever-changing,_

 _But held fast, immutable,_

 _With Words for heaven and for earth, sea and sky._

 _At last did the Maker_

 _From the living world_

 _Make men. Immutable, as the substance of the earth,_

 _With souls made of dream and idea, hope and fear,_

 _Endless possibilities._

 _Then the Maker said:_

 _"To you, My second-born, I grant this gift:_

 _ **In your heart shall burn**_

 _An unquenchable flame_

 _All-consuming, and never satisfied._

 _From the Fade I crafted you,_

 _And to the Fade you shall return_

 _Each night in dreams_

 _That you may always remember Me."_

-Threnodies 5:1-5:8

War has raged for far too long in their world. If not demons crawling from the dirt to wreak havoc on each citizen, the citizens turn on themselves. She has had enough. The Maker, the one who made them all as peaceful replications of His own self is crying in the Heavens watching his children fight amongst one another. The leader before her, the Divine as they are called, did nothing but hide in her temple and pray for an end. Praying is for comfort, she believes, and The Maker hears them but they can only be answered through action.

She has called a conclave at the most sacred of temple to bring order and peace back to the people. Enough blood has been spilled in the years since the fighting broke out. Entire communities, circles killed out of fear and perceived duty. Leaders, the ones who were supposed to remain pure and wise, were corrupted, hierarchies were demolished in their wake. This is not how she wanted it. This is not how The Maker wanted it.

She called upon the Templars, the saviors and holy warriors of the people. They were always meant to keep watch over the magical ones, to protect them from the outside world and the outside world from them. Somewhere, their duties changed. They did not protect them but slaughtered them instead. She called upon the magical ones, the mages, who were left. The people are afraid of them, afraid of what they can do. She believes that The Maker would not have blessed those with their power unless it was meant for good. But the people do not like what they do not know.

Yes, this war between them has gone on long enough. She is ready to make peace however she can. She is The Divine, she can do anything through The Maker who strengthens her. But she does not get the chance.

Before she can go before the congregation, she is taken. She finds herself kneeling before a false god with glowing red eyes, eyes of a demon itself. It used to be human, a man no different that the others. But now, who is he? What is he? The demon speaks. She must be sacrificed. She will die a martyr for her Maker. She is not afraid. He holds an orb in his hand, a smile present on his deformed face. His skin is rotting as though he were a corpse ten years disposed, but he is very much alive. She has seen demons in her dreams, slayed them countless times, but this one is unfamiliar. This one is real.

She imagines meeting the Maker and awaits the moment of her death. It never comes. She hears a scuffle and a loud thump as the orb hits the ground. It rolls towards her and she reaches for it. Another hand grabs it instead, but it is not the rotted hand of her assassin. She looks into the eyes of a girl, blue and bright. There is a flash. She cannot make out what is happening, but she is no longer in the room. She is lying in dirt, staring up at a black sky. She sits up. She knows this place: the veins of lyrium at every corner, the rolling hills and rocks. She is in the Fade, but not alone.

There the girl with the bright eyes; she is young and vibrant. The girl believes they are dead but The Divine reassures her. They could not be dead, for if they were, they would not have their bodies. They have been physically moved into the Fade, something rare. The Divine learns her name and learns she is a mage. So she is very familiar with The Fade. They wander. They look for a way out.

When they come across another demon she knows only one will make it out. The choice is easy. She tells the girl, so young and sweet, to go. She calls her name, gives her one remaining look before she is called home to her one and only, the Maker himself. She will spread her wings and fly.

 **Notes:**

Hello, future friends. I am not new to the world of fanfiction, but I am making a very long awaited return. It has been a while since I found something that has sparked my interest to write in FF, but I recently finished my first playthrough of Dragon Age: Inquisition and have just binge watched The 100. Thus comes this attempt at a comprehensible yet complicated story.

For those of you unfamiliar with Dragon Age, they are RPGs and very complicated at that. I would be crazy to try to make this a crossover, especially since there are 3 games worth of story and a lot of lore that goes with it. No, instead I will say that this is a 100/Bellarke story based loosely on the plot of Dragon Age: Inquisition (loosely means I reserve the right to change things). I will use the most basic lore from Dragon Age (no dwarves, elves, or Qunari for those who know the game, I'm sorry) to keep this as comprehensive as possible. I may borrow characters at some point and I will definitely borrow quotes because DA:I has some of the best dialogue and sayings.

This is an AU. The universe is, for lack of better word, medieval or Game of Thrones-ish (minus the dark themes). Magic is involved. There will probably be dragons. It's gonna be epic. But most of all, Bellarke romance and angsty goodness. I do hope you enjoy.

 **Notes on Language:**

 _The Maker_ is the equivalent of the Christian God. _The Divine_ is similar to a Pope, but with a lot more involvement in politics. _Chantry_ \- the church as a whole, essentially. While this seems like it will be very religious based, it is not.

 ** _The Fade_** → where spirits who have left a body go after death; mentally when they dream, and where mages pull their magic abilities from. It is also where demons reside and manifest themselves (demons are named after seven deadly sins that tempt all people).

 **Mage:** A class in which the person can interact, control, and shape magic. A very feared group by others, under the watch of the templars and Chantry alike. Second-class citizens.

 **Templar:** Warrior class; Holy warriors who are under the direct supervision of the Chantry and keep watch over Mages as well as hunt rogue Mages.

 **The Circle:** Where Mages grow up and learn how to control their magic. They are usually towers in which all mages are born and die under the watch of the Templars and Chantry.

 **Apostate:** Rogue mages; mages who leave The Circle and live in the outside world. Are seen as criminals and hunted by Templars and killed because they are dangerous.


	2. Chapter One

**Disclaimer:** I do not own The 100 - plotlines or characters. I also do not own Dragon Age or it's plot. I just like to use it because it's awesome. No copyright is intended.

 **ONE: CHAMPIONS OF THE JUST**

 _Blessed are they who stand before_

 _The corrupt and the wicked and do not falter._

 _Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just._

-Benedictions 4:10

The story begins as she awakens in a room dimly lit by a smoldering fire. She is alone and without memory of how she got here. She tries to think back but is rewarded with an excruciating throb in her head. Her memory is gone. She can only recall arriving at the Temple of Sacred Ashes to attend conclave, but not anything after.

A pain in her left arms draws her attention. It shoots through, nearly causing her to fall over. There is a pop as a green light manifests itself from her palm. She is familiar with performing magic, but this does not feel the same. She cringes as the pain only worsens before the glow vanishes. It is gone just as quick as it came. The shackles clank together as she sits up again and it is only now that she realizes she is a prisoner. Again, she pushes for her memory but hits a wall. _What did I do?_ She is left wondering.

Not long does she have to wait, however, as the wooden door slams open. She has no time to react before a blade is pressed against her throat. She feels the tickle of someone's breath against her cheek but stares at another in front of her. He is young, perhaps her age, but dressed in full warrior armor. A templar, she guesses, but the insignia on his breast plate has her second guessing. _No,_ she muses, _worse than a templar._

"Tell me why I shouldn't kill you right now!" the breath caresses her cheek again. It is a woman's voice, angry and volatile. She knows that her life hangs in the balance but chooses to remain silent. In all honesty, she can't say why or why not. She has no idea why she is chained up in a room or facing someone else's blade.

"What is your name!" It is a demand rather than a question. The blade is pressing further into her throat now and she feels a trickle of blood on her neck. Any sudden movements and she would not live to regret it. Whatever it is they think she's done, they must be mistaken. Had she committed some heinous act of treason she would remember. Right?

The man in front of her says nothing. It is clear he is not in charge in these matters, but simply an extra body in case she decided to bolt for the door. Though, it's a little difficult to attempt an escape when chained to a floor...

"Clarke," she offers her name as a surrender. She feels the pressure disappear from her neck and the breath from her cheek. The woman in question appears before her, and Clarke is shocked by how young she is. While it is common for youth to be recruited into the Templar order, this woman is not a Templar. She bares the symbol of the Seekers, the right hand to The Divine and the liaison between the templars and the holy order. Her hair is dark and long with intricate braiding that shows her to be a distinguished warrior. While she does not know for certain, it is rumored that braids symbolize the loss of innocence, or simply put, the act of killing.

"Why are you here, Clarke?" the woman spits at her, her deep brown eyes glowing with hatred.

"I don't know." Her answer is simple. It is the truth.

"Liar!" she screams and before Clarke can even blink, her cheek begins to sting. The woman had her blade drawn once more.

"Octavia!" the man finally steps in, grabbing the girl and pulling her away from Clarke. It is clear the young Seeker is unhinged, breaking the cardinal rule of being a warrior - showing emotion. She does not seem to care, however. Whatever she thinks Clarke has done, it is enough to cause her to show anger freely.

The girl, Octavia sheaths her sword once more and composes herself in the arms of her companion. After a deep breath she turns back to Clarke.

"The conclave is destroyed," her tone is accusing more than factual, "Everyone who attended is dead."

 _Everyone except…_

"Except you," Octavia finishes her thought. She pauses as though she expects a confession from Clarke right away. But despite the explanation for her captivity, she still cannot give them that. She cannot remember a thing.

But how could she survive if no one else did?

"Explain this!" the Seeker grabs her hand and she feels the shooting pain once more before the same green glow crackles around her fingers.

"I can't!" she stutters through the pain. Octavia drops her hand and grabs her by her jacket, once again so close that Clarke could begin to count her freckles.

"You're lying!"

Once again, the man pulls her away, "We need her, O."

She takes a deep breath to compose herself. It is clear that the girl lost something or someone in the explosion. She is acting erratically, especially for someone who is supposed to be composed at all times.

"I don't understand," Clarke states once the pain has subsided, "None of this makes any sense."

This time the man questions her, his voice softer and less accusatory than the other, "What's the last thing you remember?"

She thinks for a moment, "It's all so unclear."

Her head is throbbing, but she begins to see flashes in her mind. She is walking through the Temple. She hears something and is entering a room. She's running. A woman's voice calls her name…

"There was running, I think. And a...woman? She told me to go..." it's the best she can do and it seems she has their attention. This causes both of her captors to look at each other, a mutual understanding that she seems to miss.

"Go to the forward camp, Wells," Octavia orders, "I will take her to the Rift."

Wells leaves immediately and to Clarke's surprise, she is released from the shackles. However, her hands are soon tied once more and her freedom is short lived. A precaution, Octavia calls it.

"What happened?" Clarke asks as they walk, knowing that asking questions is risky, especially considering how emotionally fragile Octavia had been in the other room. But she wants to know what others do. She wants to know why she's here.

"It's easier to show you," she says simply.

When they exit to the outside, she is shocked by what she sees. At first, she takes in her surroundings, discovering that she is still in the City of Light, but at an unknown location. She notices the cathedral in the distance. There are small cabins in the land between. Tents are set up as well for refugees and travellers, she presumes. But when she looks to the mountain side she sees it. A hole in the sky glowing the same color as her hand had not moments ago.

"We call it a breach," Octavia fills her in, "They explained it as a massive rift into the world of demons."

"A tear in the Veil," Clarke replies. She knows all about the world of demons. In the Circle, they study the Fade and world of demons closely. The Fade is where they pull their magic mana from, after all. Somehow, someway, that spirit world has been brought into reality. Someone tore open the veil, the thing which keeps the two separate, and now it is one.

"How do you know?"

She feels the mood shift again and Octavia is back on the defensive. Clarke had thought the reason for her knowledge was obvious, "I'm a mage,"

Clarke knew this information would cause them to go back to square one. No one trusts mages, especially not those close to the Chantry. Octavia is standing before her, hand on her sword and looking absolutely furious once more.

"You-"

"I couldn't have," she interrupts the coming accusation. She may not remember what happened, but she knows she couldn't have. "I've never met anyone powerful enough to do something like this."

Mages in the past have tried to bring the Fade into reality but have failed and died doing so. These attempts were done by powerful mages, First enchanter's included. They had read about these attempts at young ages. The senior enchanters found these lessons to be of high importance so that none of them would ever try to overstep their boundaries.

Octavia doesn't look satisfied, but her stance relaxes ever so slightly. While Seekers are not nearly as violent as regular Templars or involved with the Circle directly, they still fear mages as much as the next person. After all, magic is dangerous. Clarke finds it to be a bit hypocritical, really. The ones with blades attached at their hips who have been taught to fight since birth are not dangerous? Magic or not humans are dangerous no matter what.

"Seeker," Clarke addresses her, "Please. I have no memory of what happened, I must admit that. But I know that this is not my doing."

Octavia seems to think for a moment, her conflicting emotions clear in her eyes. Years of lessons and duty has worn her down. Her life is dedicated to the Holy Order of which mages are an abomination.. She does not and has never trusted them. They are dangerous and their magic powerful. But something about this girl makes her believe she is telling the truth and she sure does have a good judge of character.

"Why were you at the conclave, then?" Octavia's curiosity gets the best of her. She should not be speaking to a prisoner so freely. She has already revealed more than necessary, but she must wonder. It is clear by her attire that she is no ordinary circle Mage as they normally wear long robes and dress. This girl, she wears a semi- armored overcoat and pants. This is the dress of someone who does not want to be noticed. If she has to guess, this is an apostate. If she were to follow her duty, she would return her the Circle she came from a let them deal accordingly. More than likely, she would be killed.

"To participate in the peace talks. I have people who have been affected by this war, too." Clarke thinks of her friends who have been killed by templars. She thinks of the one's she could not heal. She also thinks of her family in Arkadia. She wishes she could know whether they are alive or dead, but she knows she cannot return. She, herself, is supposed to be dead.

Octavia considers her for a moment, taking in every inch. As a seeker, Clarke knows she has probably guessed her current status. In this moment, she could choose to kill her based solely on this. They stare at each other for a moment trying to come to a mutual understanding without words. She is shocked when the Seeker, _a Seeker of all people,_ steps forward and cuts the bindings on her wrists.

"There will be a trial for you. I can't promise anything more. Follow me," and so they continue on.

"There are more like this one," Octavia explains to her as they walk through the town, "All caused by the same explosion. That one is the first and grows with every second."

"If it keeps growing?" As if on cue, the Breach thunders above the it, Clarke falls to the ground as the mark on her hand comes to life, bringing about pain she has never known. She calls upon her magic to heal it, to make it go away, but it is useless. She cannot heal this.

Octavia helps her up and for the first time Clarke sees something other than anger in her eyes. Sympathy, maybe?

"We fear that if it grows large enough, it will swallow the world," the answer is one full of fear and rightfully so. A hole than can swallow their whole world? That is not something to be taken lightly.

"Every time the Breach expands, so does that mark," Octavia brushes her gloved hand against her palm, "And it is killing you."

Everything within Clarke is telling her to run. Far away. This is not something she is equipped to handle. She's a spirit Mage, a healer not a fighter. She knows basic combat skills but it surely will not be enough? She wants to tell the Seeker this, but she is careful to reveal very little. She, an apostate, rogue Mage, after all. Any Mage who leaves their circle is maleficarum and meant to be dead. But then, her circle believes her to be dead.

"Clarke?" Octavia brings her back to reality, "That mark may be the key, but we don't have much time."

She looks at the Breach, and her choice seems simple then. She thinks of her clan in the woods, Nyko her mentor and friend. Lexa, her leader. All her family. She thinks of her mother in Arkadia and all the young mages trying to learn their craft. The innocent people. She cannot run when lives are in the balance.

"I will help," Clarke says standing up, "I'm not sure how, but I'll do what I can."

Octavia nods in approval and begins to lead them towards the breach once more. They are more rushed now, jogging and weaving through those standing by. They reach a gate leading over the bridge. Here Clarke feels uneasy; she recognizes the Templars almost instantly. She speeds up.

"They can't tell what you are," the other girl seems to read her mind, "you are very well disguised."

 _I shouldn't have to be disguised to be accepted,_ Clarke thinks to herself. But it is not important in the moment. They reach another pass but are not able to make it through without trouble.

"Stop!" It is an older man dressed in Chantry robes, years of duty scarring his dark skin and hollow eyes. He is furious, that much is easy to tell.

"She is supposed to be a prisoner, Seeker." He addresses Octavia with what could be described as respectful contempt.

"She is," is all she responds before beginning to move around him. He steps in front of her.

"You are to hold her until trial, not parade her around the city!"

"Have you forgotten your place, Chancellor Jaha? You are of no authority here." Clarke is surprised to see the woman who held the sword against her throat now defend her. It is a quick turn around but she can't complain. Octavia seems like a person you want on your side.

"The people want justice, seeker, our Divine is dead and they need to see her life repaid. Do not forget what she's done."

The Chancellor moves aside with his final statement, seemingly satisfied that he got the last word in. Clarke follows her leader and tries not to think of what is to come. If she can successfully help seal the Breach, will she still be a suspect? If so, what is the point? _You can't let anyone else die,_ her conscience reminds her.

They move through another gate and are now outside of the town. The air is bitterly cold as snow continues to fall. The winter has been excruciatingly long and shows no signs of leaving. Following the path, The Breach is in plain sight now and was it not waiting to destroy the world it might be beautiful. Another pop explodes in the sky just as her hand does the same. She stumbles to the ground, the pain getting worse with each expansion of the Breach. Her eyes go black in the corners and her body becomes extraordinarily light.

"It is expanding quickly," Octavia says pulling her up, "We must hurry!"

So they do, or they try, at least. They only make it to the bridge until the sky rings out once more. Only this time, something strikes the bridge in front of them, causing it to collapse. They fall with the debris hitting the ice below with a great force. She tries to catch her breath but is not given the chance. Suddenly, she is face to face with a demon. A lesser shade to be exact. Lesser shades are the deceased who have come from the Fade into the mortal world. Unrested souls.

"Stay back!" Octavia yells with her blade and shield in hand. The demon is quick and dodges the sword with relative ease. It's long, clawed fingers grasp the blade and throw her to the ground.

Clarke watches as the Seeker struggles. She has to do something! Templars and Seekers do not dream, therefore, they have never come face to face with a demon. It makes sense that they would not understand how to fight one off. By sheer will, it seems, she notices a staff not feet from her. She picks it up and feels the familiar hum of magic becoming concentrated within her hands and the staff itself. It is a staff meant for primal mages, a particular one for the winter specialty. Most mages can use any staff, but ones outside their specialty are often difficult to work with. The good thing is that they can still perform their most basic functions.

The shade is sliding towards Octavia once more. She moves the staff around in her hands before slamming the butt into the ground. A trail of ice bursts through the ground and the demon is then frozen solid. Octavia is left shocked for a moment but makes quick work of finishing the demon while it's incapacitated. She then turns her weapon on her newly armed prisoner.

"Drop the weapon!"

Clarke notices more demons racing towards them, "If I wanted to hurt you, do you think I needed a staff to do it?!"

She doesn't let the other girl answer. She is swinging the staff left and right, allowing her some defense. Octavia turns towards them and begins fighting once more. Clarke, in order to prove her loyalty, performs magic more familiar to her. She summons a barrier so that a temporary and invisible shield will protect them from harm. With the help of one another, they are able to dispose of the demons fairly quickly. Only now, their urgency is much greater.

It seems as though they will never reach the Breach. When they follow the icy lake to the land, the land stretches on even further. There are many fires scattered about forcing them to double back more times than they could afford in order to get around. They run into more shades and at one point, Octavia takes a blow to the face. Clarke freezes the demon before shattering it with the butt of her staff. She glances over and notices blood coming from a large gash on Octavia's forehead.

"Here," she says quickly, "Let me help."

She allows her hand to hover over her forehead and moves her fingers delicately around the wound. The magic seeps from her fingers and the gash is no longer fresh, but a small puckered red mark. It is almost as though it didn't happen. Octavia reaches up to feel for the injury and is shocked to find it has disappeared. She is afraid, as she has always been of mages, but also intrigued. However, they do not have time for questions.

"It may still leave a scar," Clarke says simply.

After what seems like miles of travel they finally come upon more soldiers. They, too, are fighting demons, but there is more. Something hovers above them. It almost looks like a green crystal and Clarke finds herself entranced by it. It pops and crackles with a magnetic force, seemingly calling upon more demons in the ground. This must be a smaller rift that Octavia had mentioned. The pair begins assisting the soldiers with Clarke putting up barriers of protection left and right. When the fighting goes quiet, she turns her attention on the floating crystal wondering what she is meant to do next. Is she supposed to seal it? Blow it up?

"I can answer that," a voice answers her thoughts. A man some years older than her approaches and grabs her left hand. His touch brings the mark to life and Clarke is surprised that the pain is not as great this time. He lifts her arm up, palm facing toward the rift. A beam of light connects the two and her entire body vibrates with power as her mark sucks the life from the rift above. With a loud crack, the rift explodes and then it is no more.

She turns to the man still holding her hand. He is a mage like her, his staff shining brightly from its place on his back. He is in a worn apprentice coat indicating to her that he too is an apostate. He is watching her closely, a look of both admiration and intrigue shining in his eyes.

"How did you -" she asks but is still trying to find the right words. What is this mark? What did she just do and better yet, how did she do it?

"I didn't do anything," he answers simply, "It was all you."

"I closed it? But...how?"

"When they first told me of your mark, I thought it may be the key to closing the rifts," he is speaking matter-of-factly, as though everyone should have known this, "It appears I was correct."

"So could it could close the Breach?" Octavia has appeared beside her, looking between the two mages apprehensively.

"It's possible," the man rubs his hand across her palm. It is calloused from years with a staff but his touch is gentle. She wonders what his story is and how he could possibly know so much when she knows so little.

"And here I thought we'd be ass deep in demons forever," another man's voice calls. Clarke looks around to see a boy not much older than her adjusting his gloves looking totally disinterested in this new development. He pulls an arrow from the ground and wipes it on his pant leg before sheathing it with the rest. He looks friendly enough but something doesn't feel quite right about him.

"You always show up at the worse times," she hears Octavia grumble behind her.

"You didn't miss me at all?" he winks at her and turns to Clarke to offer his hand, "John Murphy. Archer, rogue, and apparently and unwelcome tagalong."

"Nice to meet you," she greets the boy. He seems interesting to say the least. His familiarity with a Seeker is also curious, especially for a rogue. Rogues aren't exactly well liked. They aren't feared or shunned like mages, but they have a reputation for being liars and thieves. They are also known to be spies for hire. It is extremely difficult to trust them. At this point, though, she needs all the allies she can get.

Clarke turns her attention back to her fellow mage, "I didn't get your name."

"Roan."

"Glad to have your help," she says genuinely. Not only is she grateful that he seems to know more about her mark than anyone else, but he is also like her. He is someone who understands.

"Enough of this," Octavia snaps at them, "We don't have time for friendly chit chat."

"Well then, let's get going," Murphy says with mock enthusiasm.

"No, you are not coming."

Clarke wonders what it is about the boy that has Octavia so bent out of shape. She seems uptight, sure, but she has been more friendly towards herself, the supposed traitor, than this guy. His reputation must have some black marks on it.

"I don't know if you've seen the valley, Seeker, but your soldiers aren't going to hold on much longer. You need me," Murphy picks up his bow then and gives her a playful nudge. Clarke is sure he's about to get a good kick in the ass, but Octavia just huffs in irritation and turns toward the Breach.

"We need to get to the forward camp. Quickly."

 _Great,_ Clarke can't help but to whine a little, _more walking._

She follows her newfound group of companions through the valley with relative ease. Demons are much easier to dispose of with double the amount of people. She notices Roan seems to be a very skilled battlemage - one who has power over every element no less. She hopes that if they figure out how to close the Breach, she can learn a thing or two from him. While she is thankful to be a skilled healer, she has always wished to be able to channel more offensive magic.

They come upon another rift and when the demons are at bay she follows Roan's directions and lifts her palm to the sky. She connects to it, hand to core, and her body once again begins to vibrate as she pulls the energy from the sky. With a pop, another rift is sealed.

"Finally," Octavia says as they enter through a large gate. Clarke presumes they have made it to camp. She and the others follow her through the chaos of soldiers and Chantry personnel alike. She tries to ignore the whispers echoing around her. _Traitor. Murderer._

"It's about time," Wells approaches them. He and Octavia immediately engage in hushed whispers. She takes in her surroundings for the moment, wondering if their efforts will be enough. What if the mark doesn't work and the Breach remains open? What if she cannot help? She cannot decide which would be worse at this point: death by black hole or death by sword. Octavia promised her a trial and after all is said and done, she now has witnessed who see her trying to help. That has to count for something.

"Absolutely not," they are no longer whispering, "it's way too dangerous."

"But it's the fastest way, O." Wells is arguing. They are bent over a map pointing in various directions. The map is marked with circles and x's in different points. Clarke approaches apprehensively to see what it is they are looking at and notices Wells point to the mountain side.

"Our soldiers need our help," Octavia tells him, pointing to the map where a large x is placed. It is where their soldiers are stationed to fight off demons coming through the Breach. She cannot leave them to fend for yourself.

"You know the Commander has it under control."

The Seeker presses her mouth into a hard line and glares at her comrade. It is clear she is not pleased with this answer. Clarke assumes she does not have faith in this Commander and believes they truly need help. She is quite surprised when, in her moment of thought, Octavia interrupts with an important question.

"What do you think?"

"Think about what?" Clarke blurts out nervously. In the span of a few hours she has gone from suspect to prisoner to warrior and now...leader? This woman's trust in her is coming from nowhere - sure, she may have fought by her side but it isn't like she had a choice. Now she wants her opinion?

"If we take the mountain pass, we can reach the Breach quicker," she gestures to the map, "There are also missing soldiers potentially in need of assistance there as well.

"However," she continues, "It is potentially very dangerous and we'd be leaving our soldiers to fend for themselves."

"And what's the other choice?" Clarke asks curiously.

"We charge with our soldiers. We fight our way through to the Breach."

She thinks for a moment, weighing the options in front of her. In all honesty, the choice seems easy to her. The soldiers should be able to fight off demons despite not having the experience in The Fade. She has noticed that the shades and demons seem to be weaker in the mortal world as their energy cannot draw from the Fade as quickly. If there is a faster way and one where they can save others in the process, well, that's it then.

"The mountain," Wells beams at her when she says this, "If it's faster and there are people who need help…"

"I agree," Murphy pipes in from behind her and receives a glare in the process, "For what it's worth."

Octavia sighs in defeat but agrees nonetheless. Clarke is shocked by this turn of events, but decides not to question it. If they all seem to trust her judgment then that's a good sign for her name to be cleared.

With one last word to Wells, they move out. The mountain is no joke, especially in the dead of winter. The regret is almost instant when she sees how many ladders must be climbed to reach the path to even begin climbing the mountain. Somehow, she gets through it. Willpower and deep breaths. Aside from the climbing, the rest of the way is simply uphill. There are some slick spots and the chill is beginning to seep through her clothes and sting her skin. They find temporary shelter from the wind when they move through an abandoned cave that looks as though it were once a castle. The walls are of thick stone with great pillars holding up the mountain on top of them. The floors are dusty and empty except for a few broken pieces of furniture and creepy statues. If they weren't in a rush, she might have taken time to explore.

They find the missing soldiers fighting off demons from a rift above. They are able to outnumber them and Clarke makes swift work of closing the rift. The soldier thank them for their assistance and agree to join them on their journey to the Breach. When they arrive, she feels something twinge in the pit of her stomach. The Temple of Sacred Ashes is nothing but debris. Bricks and torches strewn about in pieces, the place The Divine held in reverie now burning. Octavie leads them through one final tunnel before they reach their destination. It is much bigger close up. The hole is almost the size of the entire Temple at this point, swirling above them mischievously. There is a smaller rift just below it, but she finds herself wondering about something else…

"That's a long way up," Murphy speaks for her.

"You're here," a deep voice calls from behind them. She turns and comes face to face with, she can only assume by his attire, the Commander. He looks relieved to see them, or Octavia specifically. She looks between the two and sees an eerie resemblance - dark hair, dark eyes, and the same stern look on his face…

"Are you crazy, O?" his voice brings her out of her study He is glaring at her now with his sword held up defensively. His dress and his sword give him away as well as his immediate and clear distaste for her. _Great,_ she thinks, _another templar._

"Not now, Bell," Octavia tells him softly, "Post your men around the temple."

"You can't trust her?!" the Commander is incredulous. Unsurprising given the fact that she is a mage. In his eyes, she may not be guilty of the explosion, but she is guilty of being outside the Circle. Plus, there is the whole templar-mage war to consider.

"I do," she says meaningfully before ordering him to post his men to protect them. To protect her. With one last look of disdain, the Commander does as he's told.

"This is your chance," she tells Clarke, "Are you ready?"

She looks up at the Breach and doesn't feel much hope. She has been successful in closing rifts thus far, but this is a whole new level. How much power does this mark have behind it? And if she fails, will that be the end then? Will Octavia take back all of her words and defending her?

"How will I reach it?" The Breach is stories above them. There is no telling how far her mark can go. How come they hadn't thought of this before? _Stupid._

"No," Roan intervenes, "The rift below it is the key. It was the first of them; seal it and that should seal the Breach."

"Oh." she says stupidly. _How does he know all this?_ She can't help but be fascinated. However, now is not the time to question. Just act.

She moves through the temple, her companions on her heel. She holds her staff at the ready and makes a barrier so that they are protected from potential foes. Her left hand is pulsing meaning that the mark must know they are close. It is painful, but her adrenaline must be making it more tolerable. She hasn't fallen to the ground, at least. A deep and sinister voice is speaking through the temple.

"The day of reckoning is upon us," it says calmly. Her head begins to throb. She sees flashes of something, a man. No, not a man. A _thing._ Red eyes. A decayed body.

"What is that?" she is panting now, the memories flashing through her feverishly.

"My guess is that it's the one who created all this," Roan answers, moving his arms to catch her when she stumbles. She thanks him but continues to move forward. They come to a set of stairs and it leads straight to the Rift. But there are many demons they must fight through to get there.

If she were religious, she would pray to the Maker. But it never sat well with her. Instead she will hope. It's all she can do. The Commander's men are fighting valiantly. Octavia runs head first into the battle, her shield raised and her sword raised higher. Roan is moving gracefully, trapping demons in infernos and warding them off with glyphs. She is slightly unnerved when she hears Murphy laughing behind her like he is having the time of his life, shooting arrows quickly and proficiently into demon eye sockets and chests.

She is able to approach the Rift once the demons are disposed of. She stumbles when she hears another voice come from above her. Her mark comes to life, feeling more powerful than it had all day. Her vision blurs from the pounding in her head as more memories flash through her mind.

"That's the Divine's voice!" Octavia whispers, her voice shaking with emotion.

"Let her go!" Clarke hears her own voice now and she falls to her knees. She remembers now, entering the room where the man stood with The Divine holding something over her head speaking of death and destruction. She moved so quickly…

The rift explodes creating a green fog that overtakes her and the soldiers standing behind her. Voices echo around them. The Divine and her own. The deep voice calls out intruder. In the fog she sees herself and The Divine tells her to run. Red eyes glow before them.

"Kill her, now!" he commands before there is another explosion and the fog disappears. The fighting is quiet, no demons in sight. She is disoriented. Her mind is going a million miles and she cannot keep up.

"You were there!" Octavia is filled with raw emotion once more, "And The Divine...who was that? Who attacked you?"

"I don't…" she trails off. The memories are hazy and what she has seen has only made it more confusing. She wants to work through her memories. She wants to know who the man with red eyes was. Why did he want them dead?

"There is no time," Roan tells them, "The Rift is closed only for a moment. But I think if you reopen it, you can seal it properly and safely. But doing so will attract the other side."

"Demons," the Commander calls to his soldiers, "Stand ready."

Roan nods at her to continue. She thrusts her hand towards the Rift, allowing the connection to form. From the ground, more shades rise to fight. The Rift cracks and begins to form something in the air. Her stomach drops when she hears the deep growl that has haunted her dreams. _Pride demon._

Pride demons are horned lizard-like giants with the ability to harness electricity. They are extremely dangerous and difficult to defeat as their body is one giant suit of armor. They're almost totally immune to magic, the exception being ice. She hears the gasps of a few of the templars; of course they've never seen one before as they do not dream. Clarke knows her magic is of no use offensively, but she can still help protect them. She creates barriers around as many soldiers as she can. When soldiers fall, she heals them as quickly as possible. If it were not such a dire time, she might laugh at their look of confusion when they realize they're no longer bleeding or feeling pain. She feels it taking a toll on her - her mana is quickly draining. The problem with healing magic is that it takes a longer time to recover, especially if it is advanced healing magic.

As she turns, she watches the Commander take a particularly nasty hit from the demons electric whip. He is thrown back and into the concrete wall. He hits the ground and rolls onto his side gasping for air. She throws up a barrier and runs to him, assessing his injuries.

"Don't touch me," he hisses at her. He is filled with hatred and rage and it catches her off guard.

The Commander grabs his sword and manages to peel himself from the ground. He stumbles but pulls himself upright and runs into the battle once more. Clarke doesn't allow herself to dwell on the encounter although she wants to. The soldiers are fighting valiantly and she treats each injury she can, though some she cannot heal without extreme focus. The demon seems to be slowing down, his electric shocks coming less frequently and his growls becoming more and more laced with pain. They manage to break through it's armor and as he slumps onto the ground, though still swinging the electric whip, she realizes her opportunity.

The soldiers converge onto the demon as Octavia leads the pack. Clarke runs to the rift and with all her strength begins to close it. The connection is much stronger than any she has felt yet. Her body screams with the energy converging within her. Exhaustion begins to take over and she knows her mana is completely drained. There voices yelling behind her but they sound so far away. She feels her mind begin to go blank and her eyes become coated in darkness. The last thing she hears is the satisfying crack of the Rift as it closes itself. Permanently.

 **NOTES:** I don't plan on updating again until I have most of the story complete. I'm looking at about 30-35 chapters at the moment, though this is subject to change. I only have a couple written at this point. I went ahead and posted these two so I could get a little bit of feedback on the idea and what not. If you have suggestions for improvement, do not hesitate to give them. I really hope to create this story the way I want to. Dragon Age is such a cool universe and The 100 has some of the best characters. Also, if you think my placement of some of the characters are a little out of place, they aren't really. But do remember this is AU. I'm not trying to make anyone OOC, but this is a different world and my take on how I think they would be. Hope you enjoy and I hope to be back fairly soon with extremely frequent updates (I'm talking like 4 a week). Thanks everyone!


	3. Chapter Two

p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" align="center"strongCHAPTER TWO: SHADOW OF A STORM/strong/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" /p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" align="center"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: oblique; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"As the sun rose on the army of the faithful,/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" align="center"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: oblique; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"The gates of the city parted and the legion descended upon the land/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" align="center"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: oblique; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"As the shadow of a distant storm darkens the sun./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" align="center"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: oblique; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"At the forefront of the host rode the Archon himself, sword in hand./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" align="center"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: oblique; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"And at his side, bound by heavy chains, rode the Prophet./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" align="center"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"-Apotheosis 2:1/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" /p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"The room is much warmer this time when Clarke awakens. She finds her self much cozier as well. When the fog in her eyes clears, she realizes she is not in a dungeon this time but a room. Rather than a set of shackles binding her to the floor, she is tucked away nicely under a set of furs as a fire crackles in the background. Was it all a dream? The conclave, the Divine, the magical mark in her hand that somehow connects her to the giant...thing? Rift? She dreamt of green portals floating in the sky and of demons in the fade coming into reality. There is no possible way that happened. She is convinced./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"Although her head throbs in protest, she sits up and swings her legs out o the bed. She realizes then she is not wearing here usual gear but silk undergarmets. The pants cover the full length of her long legs but the shirt is quite tight around her chest causing the arms to pull uncomfortably around her shoulders when she raises her arms to stretch. Her legs feel weak when she stands as though she hadn't used them in days. The muscles are sore and putting one foot in front of the other is more difficult than it should be. She decides to walk about the room to loosen up and to also find an idea of where she is. Her clan doesn't have any sort of place like this one. This is the first time she's felt comfortably warm since the long winter started. The furs are too nice and nothing in the room is familiar. IF she had to take a guess she seems to be in the City of Light. She spots her clothes on the oak desk across the room. They are folded neatly with her boots tucked underneath. When she touches the overcoat, it feels smooth and clean. Are her clothes...washed? The notebook lying next to her belongings catches her eye. THere is something scrawled on the open page. She picks it up to read./p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" align="center"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: oblique; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Patient Observation: Day 2/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" align="center"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: oblique; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"The fever is still running rampant despite our efforts to contain it. She has been yelling in her sleep but will not wake up though we try. The Seeker has been made aware of all the issues as follows: The mark still manifests every now and then causing patient great deal of pain, fever is still high, and shows no signs of waking soon./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Clarke drops the notebook as though it has caught fire. The memories of the past days come flooding back. It wasn't a dream. The Rift. The Seeker. The demons. All of it had happened. She brings her left hand up to examine. The mark is still here according to these notes. After she sealed the Breach she must have passed out. She remembers feeling every inch of her body electrify has she closed it. Turning the pages show more notes, however the handwriting is unbearable illegible. She tosses the book back down and begins dressing in her regular clothes. IF the Breach is sealed then they should no longer want me here. After all, if things had gone to hell would she have woken up in a fancy room in pajama silks? Probably not./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Just as she moves to slide her coat on, the door creaks open. She whips around, eliciting a small shriek from her new visitor. Before Clarke can react, the girl is kneeling before her./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Forgive me," she squeaks. She cannot be more than twelve by the looks of her. She is much too skinny and underdeveloped. Her blonde hair is intricately braided around her crown, something she has seen many slaves do with their hair to keep it from their eyes. She is dressed in servant robes,, which does not sit well with Clarke. For a religious group dedicated to a Maker who preaches about helping one another, they sure don't mind having servants or blaming one particular group for their problems./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""You can stand?" it is a question more than an order. Why on earth would the servant even wish to bow to her?/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""My apologies, m'lady," the girl says wiping the dirt from her clothing, not that it makes a difference, "Seeker Octavia asked that I check on you every hour. She'll be pleased to know you're awake."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""How long have I been here exactly?" this poor girl must be run half to death having to come check on her so frequently. Was she that sick? The notes did say she had a fever, but what is that bad?/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Four days, m'lady," she addresses her formally once more. She wants to tell the girl to cut it out and relax but knows she would feel more embarrassment than ease if she were to be called out on her manners./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Four?!" her head is spinning. How much had she missed in these four days? Her clan probably thinks her dead, especially since news of the conclave has reached them by now. She has to get back to them and let them know she is alive and well. Surely they will let her go./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""And what did the Seeker say to do if I'm awake?" she asks while hastily grabbing her clothes from the desk and changing. While the silk does feel magnificent, it doesn't feel quite right to leave in pajamas./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""She wishes to see you," the girl tells her, "I can take you to her, if you like."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Clarke hesitates for a moment. She knows it would be better if she just left without anyone knowing. This way she is not stuck with goodbyes and explanations. Her job is done here so she shouldn't feel obligated and yet, she finds herself following the young one to the Seeker's quarters. The travel is not far. In fact, she wonders why the Seeker couldn't just get up and come check on her herself. They knock on the door and enter the room quietly./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Good," Octavia says glancing up from the notes she is writing, "You're awake. Thank you, Charlotte."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"The young girl, Charlotte, takes her leave. She gives her head a bow as she passes and Clarke thanks her as well. She hopes the girl isn't doomed to be a servant forever./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""I didn't think you to be the kind with servants," she takes a seat across from the Seeker, "But I guess I shouldn't be surprised."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Octavia places her quill down and stares at her. Clarke notices how much younger she looks without all of her armor on. She wears a simple ensemble, a pair of leather pants and cotton shirt, though still sporting long gloves made of leather. The symbol of the order is sewed into them right at the elbows. She looks much smaller now as well, so small in fact Clarke has to marvel at her strength. Petite she may be, but she can swing a greatsword like a twig./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""She's not a servant," Octavia explains, "She is a recruit. She has not been here long but she wished to be of use."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""So she was my keeper, then?"/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""She was making sure you hadn't died all of a sudden," this takes Clarke by surprise and her mouth shuts with an audible snap. She was out cold for four days. She does not remember anything, No pain, no memories. She hadn't even dreamed, which is something she had never experienced. Normally she would walk The Fade and dream of demons. She would dream of her father. But in all the time she spent unconscious there was...nothing./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""I don't remember much," she admits./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Octavia puts her quill down and shuts the book she had been making notes in. The book is quite large, the pages looking tattered and old. The front bares the symbol of the Seekers meaning it must be important to her. She stands, carrying the book in her arms as she walks toward the door./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""It's best we speak all together," she says. /spanspan style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: oblique; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"All?/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"The corridor is dimly lit by torch and she is only able to make out the Seeker in front of her. It seems to host many rooms, guest rooms like hers, and she wonders where they had found refuge. She is allowed her answer when they move through a large wooden door and enter into a great hall. There are paintings along the wall, each depicting a scene from the Chant of Light. They must be in the Chantry - as if the paintings and the alter weren't a dead give away. Octavia takes them through another Wooden door to the side. It is here that a large table is set up with a map of Thedas spread across it's length. There are others in the room. Wells stands to the side and gives her a nod when he spots her. The Commander is also standing at the table, marking along the map and dressed in full Templar gear as though a battle was about to walk through the door at a moment's notice. There is another there as well, a woman she has not seen before. She is dressed in much more formal attire, her hair pulled back into a neat ponytail and her eyes shining in the candlelight. She smooths her blouse at their arrival and is the first to greet them./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""You're awake!" she says excitedly, stretching out her hand, "Raven Reyes, chief diplomat and friend to the inquisition."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Nice to…" Clarke takes her hand but is caught off guard by her last statement, "the what?"/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""We will get there," Octavia reassures her. She moves to stand by the Commander who is now glaring at Clarke with an obvious distaste. Bellamy, she believes his name was. She also vaguely remembers him refusing her help during the battle. Normally, this would hurt her feelings, but as a mage she is quite used to the fear. Especially from Templars./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Just as she is about to ask for an explanation, the door swings open once more to reveal a man in Chantry robes. They had run into this man during their travels to the Breach. He had a funny name but she can't quite remember…/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Ah, Chancellor," Octavia greets him happily, "Just the man I was waiting for!"/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"The Chancellor regards her warm welcome cooly, seemingly displeased and wishing to be anywhere but here, "You know what I have come for, Seeker."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Yes," she answers, "And I'm afraid I'll have to deny that request."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Clarke wonders what the exchange is all about but it soon becomes obvious with the way the Chancellor has made a point to glare at her. He believes she's still responsible for this whole mess. Of course. As a Chantrymen, how could he not place the blame on a run-away mage. Mages have been the scapegoat for as long as they have been known. When something unexplainable happens or something "evil" how could the culprit not be that of magic?/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""The people want justice for their Divine's death, Octavia," his personal address of her clearly makes her uncomfortable, "As should you."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Of course I do," she snaps at him, eyes ablaze, "But she is no more guilty than you or I! The Breach is sealed but still a threat."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Clarke can't help herself, "I'm right here, you know?"/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"This draws the attention of the room. She mentally scolds herself for stepping in. As frustrated as she may be when they talk like she isn't in the room, she is also highly uncomfortable in this new situation. She just wants to return home and despite all the help she's offered she is /spanspan style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: oblique; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"still /spanspan style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"prime suspect./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Why would I have helped you solve the problem if I were the cause of the problem in the first place?" she states the obvious, "You saw the vision. Someone or /spanspan style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: oblique; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"something /spanspan style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"caused this. That same thing killed the Divine."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""You will be offered a fair trial to tell your side of the story," the Chancellor informs her, seemingly ignoring her alibi and still treating her like the guilty though not proven so./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""I'm afraid you don't have that authority, Chancellor." Octavia tosses the book she had been carrying onto the table causing dust to fly up. It had clearly not been used in quite sometime and Clarke can't help but wonder what some dusty book could possibly help. Growing up in a life full of books and reading only led to a dead end for her, so her faith in ancient texts is quite small./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""I beg your pardon?"/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Do you know what this is?" she gestures to the book. He shakes his head hesitantly, afraid of what the Seeker had come up with to thwart the imprisonment of the mage./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""This is the Writ of the Divine," she explains, "Written by The Divine herself for a time just like this one. It states that should the conclave be unsuccessful, we are to reinstate the inquisition."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Impossible." while it is meant as a refusal, it comes out in a short breath of panic. If this is true then that means.../span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""The inquisition is a separate entity from the Chantry," Octavia finishes, "Meaning we are to restore peace through whatever means necessary without Chantry interference."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Clarke is impressed by this new revelation. If the Divine had written this before she died, that means she must have known something was bound to go wrong. She knew the conclave would fail, she had to. For the Seekers of Truth to separate from the Chantry it must be under dire circumstances. They were, after all, keepers of the holy warriors and militia of the Divine herself./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""You have no jurisdiction here," Octavia says finally, "You may take your leave."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Chancellor Jaha manages to peel his jaw from the floor and turns to exit, but not without one last word of course./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Without our support, you will have nothing."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""He's right, you know," The Commander speaks up. His arms rest casually on his sword but his jaw is clenched and shoulders tense. He is clearly just as uncomfortable with her presence as the Chancellor and she wonders why he feels so obligated to stay if he does not believe in the cause./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""You ever going to trust my judgement?"/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Clarke must admire the girl. She is young, but she is fearless and powerful. To be a Seeker you have to balance your own moral compass and law. You have to be willing to resort to violence but also think logically about doing so./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Think about it, O," he responds, "Without Chantry support, what citizens will want to follow the cause?"/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Citizens who want peace," Clarke really needs to work on her mouth. She often finds herself spouting her opinions even when they are not welcome, which is usually anywhere outside her clan. Shit, she scolds herself as she remembers they probably think her dead. She needs a way to report her safety. They have to have a raven around here somewhere…/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""She's right, Bell," Octavia cuts in as Bellamy opens his mouth to retort. From the look on his face, it was not to be a pleasant comment either./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""It'll be hard without the Chantry," Raven admits, "But this war has displaced a lot of people. People who will be looking for refuge. And they're already looking to you…"/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Me?"/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""They're calling you the Herald of Andraste," she says, "You appeared out of thin air. You closed the Breach…"/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""The what?"/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Clarke is confused by this title. As a non-believer raised in a woodland clan, her knowledge of religion is scarce at best. She knows the Chantry worships the Maker, as do most people, but who is Andraste? She has never viewed the Chantry or its soldiers as a religious entity, but rather political. While they use their belief system as an excuse for their rules, like keeping mages locked up in towers, every move they've made has been one of power over the lands. The Divine was a good person, the much she can tell. After all, she wrote an order to separate Chantry and militia, something no Divine had ever done. She clearly cared about the people. /span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""What is an 'inquisition'?" her mind is filled with questions she can't help but ask, "What's Andraste?"/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Raven snorts as though she has told a joke but she is very serious. Religion doesn't exist in the circle and it sure as hell doesn't exist in the wilds. HEr clan in the wilds is made up of all outcasts including apostates, rogue warriors, and even ex-templars. All people who are lower class or hiding from something. No, they don't pray. They simply fight for another day./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Andraste is the wife of The Maker," Octavia explains, "She is the creator of the teachings in the Chantry. A very highly regarded spiritual being."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Clarke can't help herself, "And you believe that?"/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"A flash of anger can be seen in Octavia's eyes but only briefly. It is this small glimpse of vulnerablity that Clarke realizes she overstepped. Just because she may not believe doesn't mean she should judge those who do. They were raised differently. Perhaps if Clarke hadn't been born a mage she too would be part of the holy order./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""I'm sorry," she means it, "This is all very new to me. The inquisition?"/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""The inquisition of old," Bellamy surprises her by speaking in a neutral tone instead of one filled with loathing, "It preceded the Chantry itself. People banded together to restore order in a world gone mad. After peace was restored, they laid down their banner and formed the Templar order."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: oblique; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Lovely, /spanspan style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"she thinks./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""But," Octavia intercedes giving Bellamy a wary look, "They too have lost their way. Now we must unite people under one banner in order to face a common enemy. Templar. Mage. It doesn't matter anymore."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""It does, though," she counters, "There is still a war going on. Mages and templars won't unite peacefully."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""She's right." She isn't surprised that the Templar agrees. In fact their current working relationship is proof. WHile she harbors no ill will toward him, he definitely does for her./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""No," Raven shakes her head defiantly, "We have to believe there is hope."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""And what about this Chantry then? Aren't you part of the religious order?"/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""The religious order doesn't exist right now," Octavia shrugs, though her eyes show a deep sadness within them, "Finding a new Divine will take time. Many Grand Clerics were also killed in the explosion. We are on our own."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""What if I don't want to be this 'Herald of Andraste'?" she voices her deepest concern. She only went to spy and report back to her leader. She did not sign up for this mess or to lead some sort of crusade against demons and religious leaders. She has to fight enough demons when she sleeps, she'd rather not spend her free time doing so as well./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""You may leave if you wish," she can tell there is a /spanspan style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: oblique; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"but /spanspan style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"coming…"But know this, while many think you are chosen twice as many still believe you are responsible."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: oblique; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Damned if I do, damned if I don't, /spanspan style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"she realizes./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""As long as you are with the inquisition, we can offer you protection," Raven encourages, "We can help you."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"She notes that Bellamy stays quiet on the debate of staying or leaving but doesn't allow that to sway her decision. IF she decided to leave would her life ever be normal again? Would her clan be safe from war or disorder?/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""I have one condition," she concludes./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Bellamy then scoffs, "I don't think you're in position to make demands, princess."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"She feels her cheeks grow red with anger at the mocking tone. /spanspan style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: oblique; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Princess? /spanspan style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Instead of responding to him, she keeps her eyes trained on the Seeker and furthers her explanation./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""My people," she explains, "Their safety is important. If they agree, would they be protected?"/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"She can't be sure if they would even agree. Thinking of telling Anya, her leader, about her newfound alliance with Seekers and Templars fills her with dread. The woman is the epitome of anti-establishment. She especially hates Chantry affiliated groups. The Chantry executed her parents when she was small and she ran away soon after. She had been living in the sanctuary of the woods ever since. Clarke has a friendly relationship with her. She can only hope that her people will agree to help if she can guarantee their well being./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"There is an uncomfortable silence, though she can tell the Commander has many things he'd like to say on the matter. Luckily, Octavia responds before he can, "If they are capable fighters, we would ask they assist."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"She can't help but smile at that, "Most of us have been fighting our whole lives. Why stop now?"/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"This earns her a smile in return and the girl offers her hand. A week ago, she never would of though this is how a simple mission would turn out. She had been sent to spy. Her only job was to remain unnoticed and report back. Her leader wanted to gain more knowledge on the status of the ongoing war and whether or not they would soon have to relocate. Clarke was chosen based on her ability to remain silent and stealthy. Then she had to go an play the hero. Now here she is trading her freedom to work with those who had, until recently, taken part in the oppression of mages and outcasts. A strange sense of determination course through her body as she takes the hand in her own and shakes it. This is an opportunity to create a safer life for mages. A better life for outcasts. A purposeful life for herself./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"But at what cost?/span/p 


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